


Day Three is Always the Worst

by butterflyishida



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-13
Updated: 2012-08-13
Packaged: 2017-11-12 02:29:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/485688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/butterflyishida/pseuds/butterflyishida
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s one of the biggest days of their career and Louis has a cold.  He’s pretty sure he’s not going to make it and Paul is pretty sure he’s going to hang himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Day Three is Always the Worst

Only the idea is mine. I have nothing to do with One Direction or any of the members other than being a fan.   
~*~

The common cold is one of the worst things a person can suffer through. It’s common, so no one wants to hear your complaints and it very rarely kills anyone but you still spend a week sure you’re about to fall over dead because you haven’t taken a proper breath in days and can’t smell a thing. And it’s a cold which means it should happen in the winter when you’re miserable about everything anyway because it’s freezing cold out and all any sane person is doing anyway is drinking hot chocolate and catching up on movies that you intended to watch all year but kept putting off to go have a picnic at midnight instead.

Yes, the common cold is the worst thing you can experience four or five times a year. Especially that crucial third day. The first day isn’t so bad. Just the feeling of impending discomfort when the sniffles hit and your throat starts to itch. Day two is tolerable as well. Your nose is stuffed and you’re horribly embarrassed that people will call you out as being a mouth breather but at least you can still talk and still generally enjoy yourself. Your mind is still your own and your entire being isn’t rebelling against you. That third day though. That’s the day you wake up with your mouth feeling like cotton balls, no your entire head feeling like cotton balls and you cough so hard you’re pretty sure that one more hack and you’ll throw up all over the place. The third day is the worst.

And that’s exactly the point Louis found himself on the single most important day of the publicity tour for the newest One Direction album. It had dropped yesterday and now it was time for nonstop promo. Alarm screaming 6am in his ear, the brunette rolled over and buried his face in the nearest pillow with a groan that had him coughing within half a breath. He felt like death….perhaps death was too sweet a word for it. He felt like the coming death of an ant about to be stood on by a shit covered stiletto. That was a pretty dramatic thought, even for him. Shaking his head and wishing he didn’t as he sat up, rubbing at gritty eyes he looked around his room in a daze, trying to remember what would make him feel so shit-tacular. It was definitely his bedroom. He’d definitely drank last night in celebration but not to a point that he’d feel this wrecked. It was definitely that odd tickle he’d felt getting off the plane two days ago. The one that made him down bottle after bottle of water to try to get rid of. It was definitely that sneezing fit he’d had backstage before they preformed the new single to the screaming crowd of lucky fans that had won free passes to a VIP concert last night. His body was rebelling against him at the worst possible time. He was sick.   
“Oh for gods sake…” he croaked, blowing his nose on a pillow case then tossed the whole thing into a corner so he’d remember to get it washed later. Getting out of his cozy bed was an interesting adventure, his joints aching in protest that he should just stay there and not emerge for a week and a barking cough shaking his body as he stood upright. This did not bode well for a pop star who would be going to interview couch to car to makeup chair all day. Yanking on a t-shirt, he staggered out of his room, hoping to find the bathroom empty so he could use the shower as a sauna and clear out his head of everything stuffed into it. No such luck however as bounced off his roommate’s chest and back against the door, groaning at the rattle inside his head.  
“Good morning Lou’! Want breakfast?” greeting his roommie with a sunshine smile and a plate of good old fashion English fry for breakfast, Harry was far too alert and cheerful than should be legal at 6am, especially when the one he was chirping at was currently feeling like dog vomit.  
“I do not. I want to crawl into a hole and stay there forever.” Louis grumbled, hand covering his eyes to avoid looking at the plate of food. Usually he would cheer and eat it standing in the hall but today his stomach flipped at the smell and his nose started to run.  
“Hah! The morning after’s got you then?” Harry teased, trying to give the other a tickle while he batted at him uselessly.  
“I think I’ve got a cold.” Louis whimpered and slowly lowered his hand, giving his roommate a puppy eyed look at would make Liam jealous and Harry’s face softened. He put down the plate of food on the carpet then put his hand to the blue eyed boy’s forehead.  
“You’re warm for sure. I’ll make you a tea instead.” he patted his friend’s cheek and gave him a sympathetic smile. “And some pills. You’re not going to be able to get out of today. Too bad.” with a shrug he took the meal back to the kitchen and went about rustling up some time honoured cold remedies.

Louis had his shower, thankful that it made him feel a little more human. He could breathe properly for the 5 minutes it took him to dress himself and get out to the kitchen, Harry having been joined by Niall who was devouring the breakfast that had originally been offered to Louis. The curly haired singer shrugged when he caught the glare his roommate was sending and pushed a warm cup of tea into hands that were swallowed up by his own monster pair.  
“Figured you wouldn’t eat it so why put it to waste.” he offered with an apologetic smile and Louis grunted at him, taking the stool next to Niall, scooting it over so he could rest his head against the blonde’s arm.  
“Niiiiiiiall. I’m sick.” He whined, making a displeased nose every time the Irish lad’s shoulder moved to shovel more food into his mouth.  
“So Harry tells me. You’ll not be able to get out of today though so you might as well take the bottle.” Niall replied, pausing in his eating to push a bottle of cough syrup towards the older boy then patted his thigh. “You’ll be right though.”  
“I’ll be dead.” Louis grumbled then sniffed, his sinuses beginning to fill again with all that unneeded crap his body had decided to begin processing. Why couldn’t this have happened last week while they were on their last few days of break, when it was just him and Harry at home and he could have just been a lump on the couch with his favourite bandmate to take care of him and make a fuss? He lamented his state to his friends, getting the occasional pet and snuggle out of them as breakfasts were had and medications ingested.

Despite the warm feeling of the lemon tea soothing his throat, nothing had kicked in to make Louis feel any better when the van came to pick up the boys to start their whirlwind day. Harry packed a thermos of tea for Louis and Niall scoped up the medications that had been used, Louis only making sure he had shoes on the right feet before leaving the flat. With a beanie, a sweater and even socks on his feet he looked like he was ready to be out in mid February instead of the beginning of November. Crawling into the packed van, he settled between Liam and Zayn on the backbench, Harry and Niall having had the sense to avoid the sicky and take up the bucket seats. Paul was in the front next to the driver, going through the agenda for the day. When he paused to ask for questions, Louis answered with a whine in his voice, a definite trend for the day  
“Paul I’m siiiiiiiick” he jutted out his lower lip at the tour manager and the boys on either side of him lent against the sides of the vehicle. Paul gave him a once over and shrugged.  
“Then perhaps we’ll have a day where the interviewers don’t want to yank out their hair by the end of their session. No Tomlinson antics.” frankly the thought delighted him. Maybe there wouldn’t be a hundred rumours rearing their ugly heads today. Maybe Louis would keep his hands to himself for once and he wouldn’t have to calm a PR nightmare. Wouldn’t that be lovely? It was no wonder he kept his hair so short. The amount of greys he’d collected since taking on being the official babysitter of this band was obscene.  
“But I feel like crap.” Louis argued as Zayn lifted the collar of his shirt to cover his mouth and nose with. No way was he going to add to the smoker’s cough he’d been developing with whatever Louis had.  
“You’re not missing sessions. Just let the other boys talk for once and don’t fall asleep.” Paul gave them all a stern eye with that, especially Zayn who tried to look innocent. He’d never actually fallen asleep during an interview. Just had slept through one once…

The medication kicked in by the time they reached the reached the first venue, Louis having a bit of a giggle fit to himself at the light feel his head had thanks to it. He’d buried his face in against Liam’s side, the younger boy stroking his beanie with a fond smile. Who wouldn’t love a drugged up idiot of a bandmate to cuddle with.  
“Might have to duct tape your mouth again today. We don’t want any of our darkest secrets getting out today do we?” he teased gently which made Louis laugh harder, a coughing fit following that he tried to talk through.  
“But I….won’t be….able to breathe…at all this… time!” he protested, sniffing his only mildly congested nose and crawled out of the van after his bandmates, wincing at the screams of the fans all around. Why couldn’t his ears still be plugged for this? He gave them a wave and a grin, tripping over his own feet as he tried to move forward, bumping into Harry who slung an arm around his shoulders.  
“Come on then. I’ll help you in.” he teased, grin widening as Louis curled up against his side for a public cuddle. The girls screamed and Paul mentally face palmed. So much for a rumour free day. He herded his charges to the makeup room so they would look extra lovely for their fans and borrowed Liam’s phone for a quick management “approved” tweet. 

@real_liam_payne says: send Louis all your well wishes. hes not wel today :( 

went out to millions of accounts around the world and within the 15 minutes the boys were in their chairs, Louis hacking up his left lung, there was four hash tags trending worldwide and several hundred get well wishes clogging up the feed of @Louis_Tomlinson. The Directioners had done it yet again and they hadn’t even seen their precious sicky as yet. 

The first few sessions went well. A photo shoot that Louis managed to come alive for, mostly because there were props that he could throw at his bandmates as well as a stool he could perch on prettily when he got tired, the photographer exhilarated to get a few pensive looking shots of party boy Tomlinson. Those were fairly rare in the official photo category. Next up was a radio interview that he had to hide under the table for most of, trying to conceal the coughs rattling his chest. Niall apologized to the audience for them and they all took up the torch of mocking their oldest member for once instead of the other way around. Louis got a few words in, his usually smooth voice a touch husky but he was as playful as usual, eagerly telling all of England and beyond how Harry had given away his breakfast that morning and he’d had to make do with nothing but tea. That got a laugh out of the interviewer and things continued on with the regular questions and answers, everyone excitedly stating what their favourite song off the new album was while Louis sipped at the thermos Harry handed him with a wink. Despite it being the only thing he’d had today, it was still good tea.

By 5pm Louis was on his third dose of the now hated cough syrup, batting at Niall’s hands like a tired child when he brought it over.   
“Come on mate, just the last dose. You make it through this last interview and Paul said you don’t have to do the club appearance tonight. You can go home and sleep.” the blonde cooed promises, trying to lure the older singer into an uneasy truce. It was like meeting a stray dog for the first time. And Louis bit harder than any mangy mutt on the street.  
“Did he really? I can go home and curl up after this?” Louis asked wearily, lowering his hands as Niall twisted the lid off.  
“He did. Ask him. Now open up.” sensing he was winning, Niall offered the bottle open but stood ready in case Louis decided to bolt with it.  
“If I do, and he says you’re full of shit, your bed will be too.” sniffing along with his warning, Louis tipped his head back and drained the rest of the bottle. It was only about four doses in there. He’d be fine…..  
He wasn’t fine. The world was spinning and Louis really, really wanted off. At least Niall hadn’t lied to him. Paul had in fact, said he could be done after this. There was no singing going on at the club appearance and since the entire world knew he was unwell thanks to “Liam”, it would be okay not to be there. As long as it was only him who missed it. That was told to all five boys complete with a stern glare. Co-dependent children. Paul knew his charges all too well and knew that they’d all ditch if they could if it meant they could be a big cuddly puppy pile. Just this one last interview and that was it. Downside was it was a television interview and it would be live. And it would be broadcast around the world simultaneously so every fangirl with an internet connection could be in on it. It would attract more viewers than the Olympics. So there the five stood, prettied up with fresh makeup, Louis coated in it to keep the pale cast from his usually warm skin tone and to hide the dark circles developing beneath his eyes, studying the set. It was the usual deal. Two armchairs for the interviewer and whatever boy wasn’t into the flirtatious play today (usually Zayn) and a couch for the other four to behave adorably on. It looked super comfy and Louis wanted to stretch right across it.   
“Can I sit next to Harry for once?” he asked, voice a little slurred as he slouched towards the shiny black leather. No one ever let him sit next to Harry on filmed interviews anymore. Too much chemistry they said. Too focused on each other they said. Too touchy feely they said. Paul must have finally found that sympathetic bone in his body because he agreed when he usually the first to say no.  
“Fine, but only because you’ll never fall asleep on those boney shoulders. Zayn on the other side of you.” Niall was put next to the interviewer since he was the next talkative after Louis and Liam got the armchair to himself, watching over his bandmates like the daddy his fans all proclaimed him to be.

The interview was high energy, four out of five boys interrupting each other constantly with excited words and silly stories that most fans knew about but still loved. They discussed the fun of attacking watermelons with steak knives and how splitting pants seemed to be a hobby of theirs during various sporty outings. Louis tried, he really did but the world kept going foggy around the edges and Harry was so warm against him. Like a big pillow. He started to lean, eyelashes fluttering when a question was asked directly of him in a loud voice and he snapped back to the real world. Yes, he was under the weather lovely interviewer who’s dreadlocks kept making him think of snakes. It was only a cold so he’d survive but woe, it was horrible. Yes, his bandmates were taking good care of him. Especially Niall with his constant wielding on the cough syrup. He’d never be a fan of grape tasting anything after today though. That got a few laughs and Zayn made the mistake of slinging his arm around Louis’s shoulder to make a comment about how it was odd to be babying the eldest of them all. The movement unbalanced the sicky and he slumped over into the dark skinned boy’s lap, immediately turning his arms into a pillow for himself.   
“I think I’ll stay here if you don’t mind.” he yawned to no one in particular, getting coos from what seemed all over. Online a thousand screen shots were made and gifs were put into production. The Zouis fans went wild and Paul was just glad it wasn’t a Larry moment. They were the hardest fangirls to shut up. The interviewer had a few more questions for Louis but his answers got softer and softer until Liam saved them by randomly thanking everyone who had sent in well wishing tweets, that they were all appreciated. By the time he was done with that, with his sweet puppy smile on his face, Louis was fast asleep on Zayn’s lap, mouth open and tiny snores getting caught by his microphone. There was another good laugh at that before Harry unhooked him and everything carried on as if the band prankster wasn’t fast asleep on the bad boy’s lap.

It wasn’t until the next day when Louis awoke in a pile of blankets with his roommate sitting next to him, stroking his hair that he found out he passed out mid-interview. He couldn’t remember any of it honestly. Nothing after taking the extra big mouthful of medicine was clear in his head. Harry laughed and pulled a laptop on to the bed to show him the video. Still sniffing but feeling less like death on the glorious fourth day of his cold, Louis watched himself behave like a sleepy kitten, blushing bright when Liam had to carry him fireman style from the interview couch into the backstage to their green room. Of course the studio would continue filming that. He looked through his tumblr account for the endless posts about cuteness of it all, wincing at the wailing from the Larry fans that he hadn’t slept on him and the squeals of the Zouis fans who all decided to upgrade their bromance to a real live romance.   
“So Paul’s going to kill me after all this I’m guessing.” he mused, tweeting a thanks to all the well wishers, favouriting a dozen random messages.  
“Nah, you got some good publicity. The sassy joker was cuter than baby angels yesterday. Me though, I’m a dead man. I ditched the club.” Harry replied with a grin, fingers still buried in light brown hair. Louis chuckled and put the computer to the side, cuddling in close against the other’s side with a sigh.  
“Bad Hazza, no cookie.” he murmured, “Did I give away any deep dark secrets?”  
“Only that you think Zayn makes a better pillow than the rest of us.”  
“Now that is a big fat lie.” a husky chuckle was broken up by a yawn and Louis slumped down on his pillows again “Everyone knows Niall is the best pillow….” and he dropped off again, Harry wiggling down to join him. Spending the night stroking a sick friend’s hair was tiring.

Later that day at team meeting Zayn sneezed. And Niall kept having to clear his throat. And Liam’s eyes felt like sandpaper. And Harry was flushed, waving a stack of papers in front of his face to try and cool down. And Paul was pretty sure he was going to die in two days time. Louis was feeling much better though.


End file.
